The Exhibit: Love, Bondage and Control

Riley deferred to the gentleman at the table and let them suggest what to order. She let Corbin pair the wines.

"It is silly that I got misty eyed thinking of Mr. Porter. I actually saw him again when I was in high school. I was at a choir competition and he told me that there were two ways out of a milltown, by marrying up or getting an education. I suppose I did both."

The waiters whisked one course after another onto the table, the sommelier bringing the wines. Riley used the tricks that Corbin had taught her. She was able to name several fragrances. She was rather delighted with this new game. In a way she was very childlike, very endearing. Riley was always like that though, she adored new experiences.

A man stopped by their table and offered his hand to James. "Mr. Davenport, I was at your show this evening. I must admit I was very moved by and impressed with your exhibit. If you ever look to change galleries, please keep me in mind." The man slipped James his card. As he walked away James looked over the card, Riley read it aloud over his shoulder.

"Max Feldman, Frazer Gallery of Soho." Riley smiled with sheer delight. She squeased James's arm.

James Davenport

James was uncharacteristically quiet as Riley and Cobin continued their discussion from before, with Riley speaking of her beloved Mr. Porter and showing such happiness at showing off to Corbin the wine-tasting ability he had obviously taught her while he was gone. Once more, James felt as if he was on the outside looking in, not a situation he had truly felt since his school days, and all the more disconcerting because his wife was the one doing it. Even if she displayed the typical Riley childlike endearing while doing it, James was painfully aware that it was directed at Corbin.

Just when things were on the verge of getting just slightly too awkward for James to handle, the monotony was broken by the waiters' arrival of the food. Not too much, of course, but what there was was exquisitely prepared and would no doubt be just filling enough. Even James couldn't afford to eat at a place like this too often, and he was very hungry - as it appeared the others were as well - so the gusto of eating a delicious meal thankfully helped steer the conversation back onto more mundane, and to James all the more safer, areas of discussion.

James stood as the man approached, introduced himself, handed off his card, and seemed to disappear before anyone could ask questions or start conversations, in the way only a truly great solicitor could. And of course his suspicions were borne out when James looked at the card.

"Wow," he said, unable to stop himself from making such a mundane comment. He felt too shocked to even smile giddily like Riley, although finally a grin did split his face.

"This is turning into quite the successful night," he said after a sip of wine, followed by covering up a large yawn. "And perhaps too long of a night, as well." He looked down at his empty plate, over to the beaming Riley in her slinky dress and dusky eyes, and back to Corbin. James smiled apologetically.

"I do hate to eat and run, Corbin, but this has been a rather long and stressful day for me. I can't thank you enough, my friend, for everything you've done to help me. And for the lovely dinner as well," he added, standing up and shaking hands with the man. "A dinner made all the more pleasurable for the company." A small white lie - no, not even a lie, just a slight distortion. He didn't hate Corbin, it was just...something about him.

It was enough, though, that as they rode him in the back of the limosine, with Riley in his arms and his face nuzzling her neck, James had to ask, "So, it appears you and Corbin took quite a shine to each other."

Riley had been relieved to go home. The night had been exciting experience after another, but she wanted to be home with James. She wanted out of her heels and her little bitty dress, and in her own skin in James's arms. Riley snuggled in beside James.

"It isn't like that, James. He is a very nice fellow. I don't know that I like to be around "work" Corbin though. So syrupy fake, but I think he is a man that is just trying to make his way in the world. He speaks very highly of your work." When James did not reply. Riley had to smile. It was the tiniest bit amusing that James seemed to be a little jealous of Corbin. Corbin was out wooing the Edwina's of the world. Riley playfully decided to rub it in a little bit.
"The gallery owner asked me to see to him. He said it was very important that he was hosted. I showed him around the exhibit, he only had very good things to say. Even though he said that I should have been nude in all of the photos... in one he said that he was so.... stimulated that we needed to move on."

Riley felt herself blush as she told the tale, she had been giggling. But she could feel from the stiffness in James's body that he wasn't nearly as amused as she. "Darling, is everything all right?" She asked, the timbre of her voice becoming soft and tender.

James Davenport

James muttered his agreement when she told of the 'syrupy' fake Corbin. His own thoughts exactly. A nice enough fellow, but so focused on showing a built-up persona to the world that James suspected it had in fact taken over. Not like him. James had no pretences; he was not afraid to wear his passions on his sleeve. And as his passions were art and Riley, showing them off to the world would not have been a problem even if he were the most timid person in all of creation.

Howevermuch he felt that Corbin helped him, could be nice to be around, and supported his work, the man's comments about Riley being nude went just a bit too far for James' taste. To be honest, he was angry that Corbin was making such suggestions to Riley, especially when he hadn't been there, and hadn't repeated them while he had been there. He knew Riley was a beautiful and charming woman, and had certainly dressed to impress and been on her best behavior, and if it had been anyone other than Corbin making such obvious flirtation...

"I...oh, it's nothing," James answered to Riley's soft question, her tone melting his stiffness. He didn't want to hurt her feelings - not that she'd done anything wrong, of course. "Just petty childish jealousy, really. Corbin is...well, like you said, he's been a great help, and certainly likes to play the part of an Antebellum gentleman. It would be a shame for me to let this spoil the end of such an enjoyable night. After all," he added with a smirk, "it's not like he's the only one who wished I had done nudes."

James brought his mouth down to hers as if for emphasis, and they kissed softly as the driver pulled them home. As they stepped out of the car, James took Riley into his arms, picking her up and carrying her inside. "I was thinking of going right to sleep when we got back, but I do think there would be some merit to staying awake just a little bit longer," he said softly as he walked up the spiral staircase, Riley's soft weight in his arms and her arms around his neck. "Perhaps for a little nightcap. I did promise you hours of passionate lovemaking as I recall, or was that only in my mind?"

The bed was large and covered in white silk sheets, huge fluffy pillows at one end and gauzy drapes hanging from the posts. James pushed them aside, slowly depositing his wife onto the bed. "Should I get wine, or do you think it would only go to waste, my dear?" he asked, already moving to bring her head up for another, more powerful kiss.

Riley was glad to hear that everything was fine. She was even more pleased to see her lover return. James had been so engrossed in his work. She had missed his touch, missed the fire in his eyes.

"i don't need wine. I just need you." She whispered before he kissed her again. She shivered as his fingers brushed over her skin, meshed in her hair. "Darling, I didn't mean to... I hope I didn't upset you. I was just trying to be friendly." She whispered between kisses. One kiss melted into another. She felt his hands sliding the straps of her dress off of her.Her body arched off the satin sheets against his touch.

She watched as he expertly undressed her. Her slid the high heeled shoes off of her feet with ease and tossed them on the floor. After he got the dress off of her he found her most delicate, feminine black lace lingerie underneath. She smiled up at him. He took a break from undressing her to undress himself. She propped herself up on one elbow. She knew the bra cupped her breasts perfectly, that the lace boycut panties accentuated her slender waist and the curve of her hips. One thing about being married to a photographer was that she had to be aware of visual presentation. That was part of the reason she had chosen the white sheets, her dark brown hair spilt across the pillow made a nice contrast.

"I have missed you so much, James. I was so proud of you tonight, though. It was worth it. All of the hard work was worth it." She reached for him, drawing him into their bed. Her body arching, pressing to his. Her legs opening in invitation as he covered her. "You are so warm, baby." She whispered, kissing his throat. She reached back and unfastened her bra. She let him slide it off of her skin.

Soon, she could feel his warm mouth on her skin. Sliding down from her throat and her shoulders, taking on her pink nipples in his mouth. She caressed his face, brushed the hair off of his forehead.

"I love you, James." She whispered breathlessly.

James Davenport

"Shhh," James said as Riley began to apologize as they kissed. He had already forgiven her in his heart...not that she had anything that needed to be forgiven, of course. But the last thing he wanted was for this, the end of a perfect day and the consummation of a wonderful marriage, to be marred by Corbin's name being brought up. Whatever else goes on among and between the three of us, James thought, just let it stay out of my bedroom.

James undid the laces on her high-heels, his actions a perfect balance between the base passion of stripping and taking her, and the cerebral moderation of drawing things out, enhancing and lengthening the session for their mutual pleasures. Passion and logic. The heart and the mind. At different times in his life and career, James needed to draw on one or the other. He preferred passion, and used it more often, but cool detachment had its place too.

Balance. That was what was needed. A precise contrast. Just like the contrast that Riley made now, with her gossamer dress pooling on the floor as her slender body was finally revealed to him. Long black hair, the perfect bra and panties set - the ones that were perhaps his absolute favorite on her, cupping her perfectly-sized breasts and accenting the gentle curve of her hip, her pale skin seeming to blend in the with sheets in the dim light. She was gorgeous. Perhaps he was sentimental, but even now he could feel tears in his eyes as James looked over the woman of his dreams. How blessed he was that Fate had drawn them together.

Just as in much of his early work, before he had learned to let himself go, James' slow undressing of himself was gradually accelerating, moderation transmuting into the raw passion that fueled so much of his life, and soon he was naked before her. He was no bodybuilder, but neither was he fat; even if he often was too busy to find time to formally exercise, James often worked outdoors, and between the stress of brooding and planning and running against the clock, his above-average diet, and the physical work of hanging pictures and working on sets or galleries, he could modestly say that his body was nothing bad to look at.

At least, he knew Riley thought so, and that was all that mattered to him.

Finally fully naked, his penis already firmly erect at the sight of his wife before him - even now, he wished he could pause to take a picture, capture her simmering eroticism of that lingerie and pose and burning eyes, but knew Riley would never forgive the intrusion - James crawled onto the bed, Riley's arms reaching out, guiding him into their warm embrace, their skin hot and smooth and delicious against each other.

Her body rose, pressing against his own larger form, fitting together like a hand in a glove nontheless, every exciting bump and ridge of her pressing against his own, her warm moist breath whispering her love and encouragement to him. She kissed his throat, his sensitive spot, and James growled throatily as he felt his penis seemingly grow twice its size. She knew him well, and why not? They were made for each other.

He slinked down, taking her freed nipples into his mouth. He loved her breasts; the supermodels with their saline busts could keep them, his Riley with her petite, firm, yet utterly splendid breasts were his ideal of beauty, and the small pink buds on the top never failed to grow hard as he suckled on them, his teeth biting down gently as his tongue flicked their tips, his hands running over her back as he did so.

When she spoke of her love, James finally broke, bringing his face and hands back up to her eye level, his hands cupping her chin, stroking her cheeks.

"Riley, you're the world to me," he said earnestly. "I know I...can be not the easiest person in the world to to love. I know my art sometimes takes over and it seems like you're second only to it. That I migh forget about you, not care, not want to come home or spend time with you. But that's not true. Ever since we met, I've been obsessed with you, Riley. My heart belongs to you. You're the only one for me, Mrs. Davenport, and I want you to know that you never need to wonder or worry about that. Or anything else. I will always protect you, my love."

One of his hands moved from her chin to the back of her head, bringing her forward for a passionate kiss, as his other hand moved down to the crotch of her panties, not removing them but beginning to rub her with his thumb and forefinger through the soft lace. That he found them already wet excited James to no end; that they became even more wet as his thumb found her hard nub and his finger found her slick valley made him even happier.

Riley had never responded to anyone the way she had James. He knew how to touch her, how to coax the responses from her. In just moments his fingers had her wiggling against the sheets. She opened her legs more to him, even as her body opened to him. She could feel herself growing more slick.

"I am all yours. No other man is going to change that." She whispered. She tried to push down her panties, but James stopped her. His hand encircling her wrist.

"Patience..." He whispered with a wicked grin. She moved her hands away from the lace waistband and he continued to tease her through and around the fabric. He slid down her body and kissed the sleek flesh of her thighs. She whimpered softly, his fingers still teased her, making her shiver and plead with him for more.

The very tip of his tongue trailed slowly up on thigh and then down the other. Over and over again, he teased her. Her fists clenched the sheets.

"Please James. I am so close. Please." She begged and gasped. He slowly slid her panties off of her. They were very wet. She was ready and ever so willing. Her body and her heart were open to him in every way. His tongue flickered across her clit and she cried out, the first touch so intense she almost lost her breath. He chuckled against her slick warm skin and then began to slowly tease her towards her climax. He edged her closer and closer. He cupped her backside with his hands and held her to his mouth as she found her pleasure. Riley writhed against him, crying out his name over and over until she was shivering and breathless beneath him.

He covered her again. His kisses intense and hungry. She kissed her taste from his mouth, her fingers sliding over his strong chest and his smooth stomach. His knee slipped between her legs and opened them. His strong thighs settled between hers. He held himself up with his hands and soon he was inside her.

Even though she was well ready, she still gasped as he thrust inside of her. Her body stretching to let him in. She drew up her knees, planting her feet against the sheets so she could work her body against his. Her hands were all over his hot skin, her kisses slid all over his shoulders and his throat.

"You are the man I want." She whispered

James Davenport

James looked down on Riley, his wife squirming and moaning and sweaty and driven beyond any edge of self control by his fingers and mouth. The knowledge that her moans and cries of pleasure and torment were caused by him was nearly as erotic as the moaning and crying itself. Riley was so beautiful, looked so refined and elegant with her body and makeup and classy backdrop, yet with a wantonness in her actions, the starvation evident in her. A prim, proper, charming housewife who, once the parties and the social gatherings were over, shed her constraints with her clothes and became an embodiment of Aphrodite in bed. Every man's fantasy. This man's reality.

Her taste was intoxicating. Not only the musk of her sex, but the warm, even more subtle salt of the sweat his tongue gathered as he teased her thighs and stomach. To James, her sweat was nearly as sinfully delicious as her nectar. Another man would have dived in straight between her thighs, if he even deigned do such a thing; James let his tongue slowly tease her, give Riley a taste of what was to come while simultaneously denying it to her. Yet another sign of restraint serving passion in a wonderful symbiosis; by exercising restraint now, his passion - and hers - could increase later.

As was in fact the case when he finally gave in to his wife's tortured cries, practically having to peel the soaked undergarment down her legs, his mouth licking up the sticky residue where it was left on her legs, from the bottom ever so slowly up to her junction. His mouth brought her to her climax, his hands holding her backside up against him, as if forbidding her to escape as he eat his fill, holding her still as her movements escalated from wriggling to near convulsions. Her cries of love, her shouts of his name, were more lyrical than any choir could possibly have been.

Riley had climaxed, but James knew better to think her peaked, or even spent, as he soon had demonstrated as he kissed his way up her body to have her once more take control, guiding his mouth to hers, kissing him with a near-savage ferocity. So different was she than the demure, bashful armful she presented herself as in public. Once the foreign eyes were away and only her lover was present, her inner self, her hidden desires, were free to bubble to the surface. Again, every man's fantasy, in the sweaty and smooth flesh before him.

That was part of what made James to eager to photograph her. Her passion was so strong when they were alone; yet the whole world should share in her light. His cameras only tapped a tenth of what her brightness was like, but James thought even that was enough to illuminate his corner of the world. And, even though he had misgivings about the man, James had to admit that Corbin was right. Riley would make a truly spectacular nude model for him. But enough of that man now. Now, James had work to do.

With the same smooth ferocity, a calculate savagery - his control and passion fighting each other now, instead of working intgrated - that matched his wife's own, James spread her legs with his knees, the damp matted V of her trimmed hair guiding him down to the flush, swollen red lips of his target, it was a single, continual, but tortuously-slow thrust that sunk him into the hilt, her walls tight around him, his groans meeting her cries as they began to thrust against each other, truly like a piston, for a piston could not work with both parts each moving to ensure they gave off maximum pressure and thrust and heat.

For all his self-control, for all his desire to string them both along, for all his need to demonstrate his love to his long-too neglected wife, James found himself giving out far too early. He truly had been gone from Riley's side too long; she was giving him too much of a welcome back, too much of an incentive to never leave her side again. Oh, Riley, he thought as he neared his climax, slowing down to grind himself harder into her, nearly painfully in pleasure as his hardness pressed against her own intimates. Then, as the white light and thundering waves of their love crashed over him, James shouted it out.

"Oh, Riley, Riley honey...I love you! I love you! Oh, God, Riley, do I love you, my dove!"

His penis spasmed as his semen flooded into her. Even at such a moment, James had to be glad of the fact that they no longer needed to worry about birth control. They both were free of STDs, and the necessity of wearing them during their courtship was over; now that they were man and wife, with him graduated and having plenty of money and both of them wishing for at least one little one, their lovemaking was now unencumbered. And if Riley needed to take a year or two off of the end of school...it was not as if she needed to worry about her scholarship any more.

There was no sign yet that Riley had quickened, but James made love each time with the assumption (and accompanying energy) that this would be it. And if he was disappointed, well...it was not like either of them minded having to try it again.

James lay panting for a few moments, as out of breath as Riley had been when he had had another appendage between her legs, before rolling off to the side, not wanting to make her uncomfortable. He snuggled up against her, his arm lightly around her stomach, stroking her soft belly, enjoying the afterglow.

Riley was still shivering as he held her against him. His fingers drew invisible designs on the soft, smooth flesh of her taut stomach.
"Maybe it will be tonight. Wouldn't that be an amazing story to tell? On the night your father became amazingly famous, you were concieved, and then it was truly the perfect night. What a fairy tale to be born into?" Riley mused quietly.

She nestled in close to him. Riley tended to be cold and sought the heat of her man. James, ever the protector and sometimes even paternal, tucked the sheets around her and smoothed her hair. Riley closed her eyes and sighed contentedly.

This had been a rough stretch. James had been consumed, but that was over for now. He usually would spend a few weeks in his more detached state, planning his next project, brainstorming. He would be there to eat dinner and snuggle with her in the evenings. The semester was drawing to a close and Riley knew she had papers to write and exams to study for. That she could start tomorrow.

Tonight she was just going to rest with James. She could feel him slowly relax. Soon he was sound asleep. Riley soon found her dreams as well. It was the best she had slept in weeks.

The next day she was up before James. She saw Corbin's card in her purse and she wasn't sure why but she tucked it deep inside her wallet. She wasn't sure why she needed it to be a secret, but she did. Then she got out her books and sat at the dining room table to study. She wanted to give James the chance to catch up on his sleep. She put on her earbuds and cracked the books. Piaget, Erikson, Montesorri. The tenets of child psychology and constructivism filled her mind. She wasn't even sure how long she had been reading when she heard James stir in the kitchen.

James Davenport

"Mmm. Quite the fairy tale," James agreed softly. "I'd have to polish my armor, though, if I'm going to be a knight, milady." And Corbin could be the crazed enchanter, he added mentally, although even that had no ill will with the warm sensations of Riley pressing against him, the knowledge they had sated each other completely, at least for the moment. But for all his soft jokes, James agreed with Riley, as always of course. If only this night would bless them with a child. The ultimate capstone to a night that had gone marvelously for him...for both of them. He wondered what sort of a father he'd be. He already knew Riley would be a wonderful mother.

James pulled up the sheets, tucking them both in under their luxurious softness, stroking her soft hair into a dark halo around their combined forms, his wife pressed up against him. He kissed her forehead again, drinking her in once more before closing his eyes, almost regretful at his need for sleep, when it took him from such utter perfection.

He wasn't quite sure when he had fallen asleep, but Riley's words apparently stayed with them, as his dreams were filled with knights in shining armor, talking dragons, stablehands pulling swords from stones and wizards doomed to live their lives backwards. The medly of memories of the fairy tales of his youth mixed with his subconscious, and James was the enchanter who had taken Riley into his castle, frozen her in perfection for all time, to admire her beauty for the rest of his life...and soon, even that faded out to a dreamless singularity, the deep sleep that James had needed but refused for weeks.

James took his time waking up, lounging and blinking in the morning sun only partly occulted by the drapes and gauze of the windows and bed. Riley was gone from his side, but he imagined her warmth, her smell was still there, imprinted on her side, and he rolled into it, inhaling deeply, imagining her essence infusing him. Finally, he felt awakened enough to rise, fetching a soft robe and moccasins and nothing else to wear. He knew his hair would likely be a mess, but there would be time to groom himself later. He was between projects. There would be all the time in the world now.

Down the spiral staircase he went, entering into the kitchen. Riley was there, earbuds in and books opened, and James resisted the urge to sweep her up into his arms and given her a proper good morning. That could wait...for a few seconds. He opened the fridge, looking what they had. He was in the mood for a nice omelette. Perhaps some oatmeal...he could slice up that papaya...

When he looked back over, Riley had turned to him, his noise aparently getting through her. Smiling James walked over, tilting her chin up for a lingering kiss. "Good morning, love," he murmured. "Have you eaten yet? I was thinking of oatmeal and omelettes before I shower...scrub my back?" he added hopefully. The sensation of having nothing but free time for a few weeks was always euphoric, at least the first few days before boredom and the itch to create appeared, and he could think of no better way to use that euphoria than to lavish it on Riley.

Riley looked up from her work. "Of course darling. I would love to scrub your back. but only if you do mine." She said with a laugh. Riley sighed as she looked at her pile of books. She really had let her workload get away from her. She had several readings to do, and a little research she needed to get started on. She had to write a paper on Gardner's multiple intelligences for one of her classes and she had to write another paper on building phonemic awareness.

But she laid her books aside and looked up to James with a smile. "Do you want me to whip up some breakfast for you? I know you must be tired." James declined her offer and puttered about in the kitchen quite happily. "What was the best moment for you? Do you think you might check out that Soho gallery?" Riley asked as she popped up onto the counter in the kitchen. She was wearing just a pair of cotton panties and one of James's oversized t shirts. Her bare legs dangled as she spoke.

Two or three times Riley's eyes shifted back to her school work. As if somehow she was hoping that the information in those books would magically transport itself into her brain. She knew better. She started thinking about when she would have time. She knew she could go to school early tomorrow and study a bit between her two classes. She could make it work.

James looked so delicious to her as he stood in the kitchen. He looked rested and happy, his hair was mussed, but she loved him this way. She loved casual, at ease James. She hadn't even seen his camera today and she hoped it stayed that way.

James Davenport

"The best moment?" James asked as he worked at the counter, pausing to bring the flat edge of the knife up to his lip, tapping it contemplatively. It was very nice for Riley to volunteer to cook for him - it was done from a genuine desire, and not the social expectations of the past century - but cooking was something James enjoyed. Not as much as art or Riley, of course, and he would never win any awards for it, but it was relaxing in a way. A combination of precision and room for experimentation. Mixing proper proportions of ingrediants to create somethign beyond the sum of its parts. Rather like art, in a way.

"Honestly, picking any point of that evening above the others would be like picking a favorite child, I imagine," James finally said, bringing the knife down to dice an onion. "I suppose finding out one of the Hargreaves attended and enjoyed herself would be hard to top. The Soho deal as well. But truly," he paused in the middle of slicing a bell pepper to look at Riley's face, "knowing that all those men were coveting you in those pictures, someone who only I could have..."

James broke away, embarassed, the thought being somewhat private and rather far removed from the subject of art. They spoke of feelings that even James was not quite sure of. He turned his attention back to breakfast, and when things were back under control, with only a few minutes left, he resumed speaking.

"I am definitely going to follow up the Soho offer. That is...to tell the truth, that is beyond my wildest expectations. I can't tell you how excited I am, Riley, thinking about my art there." He beamed at her, moving between her swinging legs for a quick kiss, before moving back to finish putting the omelettes and oatmeal onto plates and bowls, and soon they were eating.

James didn't add that another, admittedly smaller, reason for him to be excited about the Soho deal was that he would not need to have to deal with Corbin or his galleries again. Or rather, he could deal with him - but this time, the ball would be in his court. He would never again be dependant upon the Southern gentleman.

As they eat, James couldn't help but constantly steal glances at Riley. What a contrast she was, in his shirt and her simple white panties, to the elegant belle she had been last night. But she was no less beautiful for it. In fact, perhaps she was even more so, and James stared at her like he was seeing her for the first time. Although the meal wasn't that large, James found himself thinking that he had made it too big, and he was glad beyond words once they both were done.

As soon as Riley had swallowed her last bite, James was by her side. "Let's leave the dishes," he suggested, his hand stroking her naked thigh. "I think I'm still hungry."

Riley was all smiles as she slipped from the counter into his arms. "You are insatiable." She whispered. She could already feel his warm hands under the soft cotton shirt. She hooked her leg around his and pressed herself to him.

"I am hungry too." She whispered. "and I didn't get a taste last night." Riley slipped to her knees on the kitchen floor. Her slender fingers slipped inside his boxers and drew out his erect cock. "Do you think I will be able to taste myself from last night?" She whispered playfully.

Riley wet her lips and teased him with her fingers. Soon she was planting baby kisses all over the velvety skin of the head of his cock. The tip of her tongue teased him, tasting him. Then she took him in her mouth. She sucked just the head as her fingers stroked his shaft. She looked up at him, smiling at him with her mouth full. Then she slowly began to bob her head up and down. She found a rythym and closed her eyes. Each stroke took him deeper into her mouth. She moaned softly. It took a moment and deep breath, but she even took him in her throat a time or two.

She felt his hands on her face and in her hair. His gentle fingers soothing her, coaxing her were always her favorite part. She felt so adored when he touched her like this.

James Davenport

James groaned as his wife slipped down his front, releasing his penis from his boxers. He groaned again at her mention of tasting herself. The idea of Riley tasting her own essence seemed...just so right at this moment. He would never have eyes for another woman again, and would not appreciate Riley taking up such 'extracurricular' endeavours, but this seemed just the proper amount, the barest touch upon the fantasy that surely other men enjoyed as well.

She knew exactly which one of his buttons to push, there was no doubt about that, just what would excite him the most to feel or hear or see. It was like they were combined on some higher level. Not only on matters of sex, of course, but all walks of life. It was why they had been led to each other by Fate. It was why James had always politely refuted those who told them they were too young, that it would end messily in a few years at most. They just couldn't understand. It wasn't their fault, of course.

Her technique for oral sex was wonderful. A slow buildup of gentle kisses and licks along his shaft, the teasingly slow entrance, her building up to taking him in even deeper. Her brief engulfing of his member by her throat was a thrilling delight - Riley originally had been unable of doing that, but had practiced on him, and what made it more special was that she had done it all of her own accord, to please him without him asking her to. He might be insatiable, this was true, but at least his wife was of the same persuasion.

James' hands buried themselves in her luxurious, seductively-tangled hair, stroking, petting, rubbing her cheeks, subtly guiding her back and forth, never leading, just helping her along. God, she was good. So tight, so warm and wet...She might have wanted to taste him, but James had other plans, and as soon as he felt himself approach, he pulled himself out of her mouth.

Wordlessly, he picked her up, carrying her to the table, laying her down on her tummy, legs over the edge, arms stretched before her. In a single fluid motion, he reached below, pulling her panties down to her knees, then positioned himself at her entrance, stretching himself over Riley's back, his arms over hers, squeezing her hands as he entered her from behind. He was not rough, but from the position there was no question James was in charge, although he would of course have stopped if she had asked him to, and there really wasn't anything wrong about this. Of course, most of their lovemaking was soft and gentle, but this...James began thrusting into her, with animal passion, his mouth kissing her neck as his weight and arms over her own symbolically kept her pinned beneath him.

Corbin had noted a certain, ever so slight bit of irritation in James when he arrived, and when the food started had been happy to retreat to the gastronomic, but he had also noted as well, Riley had eaten up everything he had told her about the wine tasting. Despite Corbin being somewhat withdrawn she had persisted in discussing every glass, fortunately the Porte D’or had a wide selection of half bottles so he was able to indulge her new found interest. She had correctly noted the presence of a sort of strawberry flavour in the California Cabernet, and equally the raspberries in an Oregon Pinot Noir, and when she tasted the slightly off dry sherry with the dessert she nailed the almond flavour.

Corbin really liked getting people onto new things that pleased him and he had frankly been astonished at how easily Riley had picked up on his lessons. When the stranger delivered his card to James, Corbin congratulated him, though he was so momentarily taken by the fact that Max Feldman had approached him he did not notice, though Riley did, and mouthed a thank you to him.

After James made his apologies and he and Riley left, the sommelier who had been having an excellent night, as many of his guests bought wine based not on its ability to harmonize with a specific food, but rather on how ostentatious a display they could make. Corbin bought quality but he never was flashy about it, and the only thing about him that was overt was his accent and speech. He was otherwise the epitome of taste, and charm. Andrew asked Corbin if there would be anything else, and after a considering for a moment Corbin said, “Perhaps I might have a bit of single malt, you know how I like it, and if you still have it the fifteen year old Talisker would be just fine.”

Andrew returned with the smoky scotch, in a small snifter, with no ice or water. Corbin asked for the bill as well, and when it was presented he glanced at it and smiled, somewhat north of $1200. After arranging payment and leaving an appropriate tip, somewhere in the area of $350, Corbin sat back and basked in the smoky peaty scotch.

Riley had been such a delight, and such a beautiful young woman as well, “wouldn’t mind a taste of her myself,” he thought, but then she was the wife of James, his somewhat prickly associate. “Max Feldman,” he thought, that was significant and a real feather in the cap of James who was relatively young for such success. Without saying it aloud Corbin raised his glass to James, “well done sir” he mouthed.

After draining the last drop of the pale amber liquid he got up nodded his thanks to the proprietor and walked out to the entrance and when he went out into the night air, almost early morning, he summoned his car and Billy arrived as requested opening the door and then once safely ensconced inside drove Corbin back to his hotel, top floor executive suite of course. He took the time before going to sleep to compose a note to James,

Dear James;

I am so pleased the exhibit worked so well, you must be proud and justifiably so, your talent is, I think, as yet not fully realized. Max Feldman is an excellent gallery operator, though not on my short list. Give him a good show though and you can expect to be feted by all and sundry I assure you. Once again I say well done, and best of luck in the future.

Also say hello to that charming wife of yours, she was truly the belle of the ball, and does you proud, take care of her she is a keeper.

|Corbin Buchanan

After composing the note and putting it into an envelope he called Billy and asked him to deliver it in the morning, not too early but before noon. Billy nodded and said, “the pictures you bought are in the bed room.”

Corbin nodded and went to the bedroom and there was three pictures, one nondescript one of Riley looking away, and Corbin, said aloud, “You go to Chicago.” Then he unwrapped the other two he had purchased, the one with Riley laughing and looking so childlike sitting on the edge of the bed, and the other one where she was crying. Corbin got undressed pausing several times to look at the two pictures, and admire the superb lighting affects that were the hallmark of James’ work, and the subject they illustrated.

Riley shivered as James spent inside of her. The primal way he had made love to her had left her breathless. James nibbled and kissed all over her shoulders and her neck. Then he gathered her in his arms and lovingly kissed and cuddled her. Her schoolwork was long forgotten. Soon, she and her love were back tangled in the bed.

There was something about the way that James was talking. She could feel his creative surge coming. His inspiration and passion just percolating under the surface. As much as Riley loved James's passion she dreaded him starting on a new series of work. She needed to finish some schoolwork, she had to get some field work done in a public school. She wanted to make love and go to movies and play house. She just felt an impendiing doom.

They were lightly dozing when there was a solid knock at the door. Riley slipped on her satin robe and went to the door. It was Billy, Corbin'd driver. He had a parchment envelope addressed to James. Riley took it with a brilliant smile and a thank you. She scampered back up the stairs with the note.

"Darling, Corbin sent you something." She called out, falling into the bed full of giggles. She snuggled against him. "Read it. Read it. Maybe it is an invititation to something glamorous, he knows everyone....."

James Davenport

James had been dozing in bed, his shower long forgotten as Riley slept next to him, their lovemaking having come and gone in waves throughout the day, in every position imaginable, in every fashion, from the rough animalistic coupling in the kitchen to an hour-long, teasingly slow, gentle buildup in bed. Whereas last night had seen the ultimate nightcap to a wonderful night, this, James reflected, was truly a celebration of his homecoming.

Instead of wearing him out, James felt his synapses opening, his thoughts flowing clearer after each session, his frustrations and holdups melting away. Perhaps it was the excitement over the Soho deal, or perhaps his passion was growing with age. Whatever the reason, James could already tell that this respite would be short indeed. He would take another few days off to spend time with Riley and make her happy, but already his blood was beginning to bubble. He could feel another creative whirlwind fast approaching.

He had fallen asleep again, Riley curled around his back this time, when the doorbell woke him. He blinked, wondering what it could be on a Sunday, as Riley jumped off the bed into a robe, running down the stairs as if a child on Christmas morning. James just had to smile. Any kids they had would certainly never lack an eager playmate. Her childishness, far from being annoying or denigrating, endeared her to him to no end. It went with his protective streak.

The Christmas analogy was fitting, as Riley bounced back up the stairs, a white grin splitting her face, holding a small letter as if it might contain the rights to a new pony. James perched himself up on one elbow, her smile contagious as she fell into a giggling fit on the bed, cuddling against him.

His smile faltered slightly when she said who it was from, but Riley's gaze was fixed on the letter. And, truth be told, James was a little curious as well, and he quickly split the envelope, unfurling the letter and holding it open for both of them to read.

"Huh," James remarked noncommitally. He squinted, putting on a show of trying to make out what was on the fine paper. "I swear, I can hear his ridiculous accent through the lettering. I think it means he's...congratulating me? That was nice of him, I suppose."

He read the last line again, his gaze turning down to the top of his wife's head. "I hope the lack of invitations doesn't disappoint you, Riley. Although if you really wanted one I'm sure you'd just need to ask him. He does seem to be rather fond of you."

Mentally, James decided to look over exactly which painting Corbin had bought last night...assuming he hadn't done it anonymously or through some second party.

Riley nudged him lightly. "I was just curious. How southern, to call me the belle of the ball. Even if I did make a good hostess." She kissed him on the nose. "I have to get dressed. I have to get some school work done." She huffed.

Riley slipped from the bed and slithered into her worn jeans and tugged on a white cami. She wove her hair into a loose bun and went back down the stairs. She read her text books and made notes on notecards. She didn't have all she needed for her research paper, she knew she would need to go to the university. But she could put that off until tomorrow.

As she worked it sort of rankled her that James didn't seem appreciative of Corbin's congratulations. It really was a classy thing to do to send a note, and a hand delivered one at that. Riley frowned slightly. She and Corbin had truly had a good time before James had come and made it tense. It was so rare for her to have people in their circle that she felt close to. More often than not, their friends were other artists. As much as Riley enjoyed their passions and debates, there was a practicality missing. She shook those thoughts from her mind. Corbin was James's acquaintance through work, it wasn't for her to decide how they should get along. But it couldn't hurt for her to whip off her own thank you note for the dinner and the wine tasting lesson.

She got out the fine stationary her mother in law had purchased for her thank you notes. The crisp notes were embossed with a simple R and M flanking the Davenport D. Riley Marie. Riley sat indian style in the dining chair as she wrote.

Dear Corbin,
I just wanted to take a moment to thank you for the lovely dinner. It was a treat for James and I to have such a splendid meal. I quite enjoyed your wine tasting lessons. I don't ever think I can drink a glass of wine without really tasting it again. Your encouragement of James's career has not gone unnoticed and you have my deepest thanks.
Your friend,
Riley Marie Davenport

Riley fished out Corbin's card and then addressed the note. She put a stamp on the envelope and then tucked it in her school bag. She knew she would be able to mail it on campus. Less fuss, she thought to herself.

James Davenport

James watched quietly as Riley got dressed, leaving the bed after his remark, a bit sad that once more schoolwork was getting between them. It hadn't been that bad when they had both been in school together, but since his graduation, he had been noticing it more and more. He half wished she would just drop out, then immediately recanted it. James was not some savage from the 1950s wanting to enslave his wife in the kitchen. He knew she liked school, was proud and rightfully so, of getting accepted and wanting to work, to show that she could pull her end as well, as if there wasn't anything James wouldn't do to support her.

I just wish that...I don't know. That she could spend less time at it. And still pass with flying colors. And still not feel bored or pressured. And while I'm at it, that pigs could sprout wings and turbojets as well.

James remained in the same position for a few moments, thinking, even after his wife had left. Had she taken offense to his reaction, or perhaps non-reaction, to Corbin's letter? It was just Corbin's way of doing things. The amount of letters he sent out, they were like emails or cellphone calls. The man had literally oodles of money sitting around, begging to go to be used somehow.

Of course, that wasn't the real issue. Riley did seem to be rather fond of Corbin, and vice versa. James shook his head, trying to rationalize it. He truly was getting paranoid. Riley was a beautiful charming woman; Corbin and charming man who shared her background. They had mingled out of boredom for a single gallery. Riley likely wouldn't even see Corbin again, anyways. James scolded himself, as he finally dragged himself out of bed and into the shower. He had better ways of spending his energy than to construct elaborate scenarios on Riley's non-existant plots against him.

Cleaned and shaved and dressed, James tiptoed down the stairs, out the back door, careful not to intrude upon Riley. Outside, in their vast backyard, James sighed as the natural sunlight struck him for what seemed like the first time in weeks. It was like his body was getting recharged. He felt like Slugger, his tabby cat from his childhood, stretched out in the sun for hours on end.

As he walked leisurely among the gardens and tree copses, James mused. Tomorrow would be Monday. He would call the Soho man then, arrange a meeting. He needed something big to sell him on, something that would build off of last night's gallery but go beyond. Again and again, his mind returned to Riley, clad only in her unmentionables and propped up on one arm in bed as he had undressed. Riley the Sex Goddess. Hmm.

Riley left her school books after a while. Her mind was full and her eyes were tired. She went upstairs and took out her contacts and put on her glasses that she almost never wore. She looked at herself in the mirror and decided to take her hair down. Then she went out to find James. She knew he was out in the yard or about the neighborhood. They lived on a quiet street, lots of families.

Riley hadn't bothered to put shoes on. She padded out through the grass to find James deep in thought leaning against one of the trees. Riley looked at him with a soft smile.

"Do you know when they transport lumber, the ends of the trees glisten in the sunlight? I used to think it was so pretty until my dad told me it was the tree bleeding to death." Looking up at the trees always made Riley think of her childhood. It was different to live in a place where trees were money. Trees were just waiting to be chopped down, trucked into the mill and ground and pressed into paper. Here, trees were things to look out and revere. A paradigm shift to be sure. "Sometime we will have to go. My oldest sister Jenny is having another baby."

Riley leant against James. She could feel the energy in him. "What is on your mind, love?"

James Davenport

So deep had James been thinking that, when Riley first spoke, he nearly jumped, not having heard her approach. And for a few seconds, it was as if he was still in his thoughts, having their subject suddenly appear. But no; the Riley of his mind was naked and on an exquisite bed to match her fantasies, in poses that she had never been in, all plans for future pictures. This Riley was clothed, her hair down, the glasses that he thought made her look like a cute librarian. Still as sexy as his thoughts, just in a different way. A way more dear to him.

James looked up at the tree when she talked. "When I was a boy," he said, answering her story with one of his own, "Dad put up a zip-line between two of the trees in our yard. The line cut into the smaller tree, through the bark. Over the years, the wood grew around it, the sap overflowing and hardening. Even then I thought it looked like a festering wound." One gruesome tree death to another - a defensive action on the part of James, uncomfortable about Riley's childhood. He was just glad she was out of it, forever.

"And I suppose congratulations are in order to Jenny," he continued, wondering if Jenny knew who the father was, but wise enough not to ask. "You know I want to meet your family, see your home from childhood. You don't need to be embarassed about it, you know," he said, his arms encircling her waist as she leaned against him. "They're your family. I'll like them no matter what.

"As for what I was thinking..." he said, changing the subject. "Actually, I was thinking about you. In my new set of portraits. Ones for the Soho gallery." He grinned. "Can you imagine hundreds, maybe thousands, of the upper crust's upper crust taking you in there? I was wondering if you would mind doing them nude," he asked, getting to the nub and taking for granted that he didn't need to ask if she would be in them.

Riley sighed softly. It wasn't even his request but it was that he was already thinking of his next exhibit. She shrugged her shoulders. "You are the artist James. You know I trust your vision." With that James put his arm around her and they cuddled for a bit before Riley left to open a can of soup for a simple supper.

The night was amiable. She and James chatted over dinner. They even made love again before James drifted off to sleep. If Riley let herself think about the next photos she was a little afraid of the prospect of being undressed in his photos, but she decided not to think about it. She would think of her school work instead.

The next morning Riley dressed for classes and then went to school. Her classes felt long and tiresome. Her classmates were talking about parties over the weekend and dates. Her life was so different from theirs that she felt a little isolated from them.

After her classes, Riley went downtown to visit the public library. She needed a quiet place to work on her paper. She was used to studying at home, but she couldn't chance a whole afternoon in the bed with James. But she thought of the note in her purse. She wasn't that far from Corbin's office. What could it hurt to hand deliver her note? He had hand delivered James's.

Riley walked to his building and found the list with the floors. She took an elevator upstairs to a very ritzy and window laden floor. She told the exceptionally beautiful receptionist that she was there to see Corbin Buchanan and she knew she didn't have an appointment. After she gave the receptionist her name, she was directed to sit. Riley sat in the opulent waiting room, wondering just how long she might have to wait for a man as important as Corbin Buchanan.

Corbin had spent the Sunday lunching with Edwina, and politely fending off her advances, while he got a contract for not only her great room, but her adjoining patio and the surrounding landscape, the idea being to create a mission style room and garden in the Greene and Greene style. The contract was worth upwards of a quarter million dollars but would be a showpiece when done. The rest of the afternoon he spent with her in conversation noting that her libido was intact, but not partaking of her not so veiled offers.

She was actually a fairly attractive woman, even though at sixty two she was twenty years older than Corbin. She did demand that he and he alone work on the concept sketches, he in turn made it clear that was more money, and she said without even moving her wineglass away from her mouth, “add twenty percent then, but at these prices I want the best.”

Corbin happily obliged and after factoring in the chance of going over budget on some of the intangibles, it came to just over three hundred thousand dollars. When he returned to his hotel suite Corbin did the initial sketches and after a light supper he watched a movie and went to bed by ten.

He had offices in New York, Los Angeles, Chicago Boston and here, living out of hotels most of the time, but when he needed to recharge his batteries, he had a smallish estate near the Greenbriars in West Virginia, very few people except his top staff knew the location, but when he was there he turned his cell phones off, and used the land line, the number he had given to Riley was there.

The next day Monday he spent in his local office dealing with Edwina’s contract, he already knew who the furniture maker would be, and he had a good idea about the contractor, all he had to do was finish the concept sketches and present them to Edwina, then it was off to Boston for an extended period to monitor a major renovation in a public building.

He was standing at a drawing board in the local manager’s office wearing a sea island cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up and discussing the plans with the manager. The receptionist called and said a bit huffily for Corbin’s liking that a young lady named Riley was there to see him and should she put her off?

Corbin did not at first register what the receptionist had said then he said to her somewhat curtly, “send her up now, with the right directions too.”

The manager raised his eyebrows as Corbin returned his gaze to the sketches, and asked him, ”should I withdraw Corbin?”

“Huh, no of course not that is the wife of James Davenport a charming young lady and happily married, no stay here while she visits.”

Riley entered a few minutes later somewhat sheepishly as if she had reconsidered her plan, as she saw Corbin obviously working, noting at a glance that despite his airs and such as a gentleman, his arms were sinewy, and hard looking, obviously he really had been a coal miner at some point and probably worked out to maintain his fitness.

“Riley the light of the gallery and the belle of the ball, welcome and to what do we, my associate and myself owe this not inconsiderable honour?”

“I brought you a note in answer to yours, to thank you for dinner and the fine time you showed James and I.”

Corbin took the note beaming as he did so, and after reading it he looked at her and said, “why you didn’t have to do that Riley but the gesture is not unwelcome, particularly since I get to see you once more. You know when you were chatting about Oregon the other night it reminded me of a folk song that our neighbour used to play back in Danville.”

“What song was that Corbin?”

“It was an old Carter Family song called Wildwood Flower, I dare say you are a flower of the woods and that’s a fact.”

Riley blushed at the mention of the song particularly since as a girl she had known it as well, but in the song a girl is deflowered and left alone. “Thanks Corbin.”

Then as if a light had suddenly come on Corbin looked at her and said, “I tell you what Riley, would you be up to giving me a hand with something?”

“I will if I can what do you need?”

“I have to present these sketches we are working on here to Edwina Hargreaves on Wednesday afternoon, and if you don’t have any classes, then perhaps you could accompany me, and therefore put ole Edwina at a distance. She should behave with a third party there. If you can’t perhaps James would be so kind as to do so instead? What do you think?”

Riley had taken in Corbin's sophisticated offices with awe. She felt a little out of place in her vintage jeans and simple black turtleneck. She didn't know that she had a polish about her that many women never found. She had smiled when she found Corbin hard at work. She had half expected to find him lounging behind his desk with a cuban cigar and a tumbler of expensive scotch.

Riley felt herself smile under his attention. Corbin told her that she reminded him of the "Wildflower Flower" song. She could have sung it word for word, it was the sort of music her mother loved. It felt good to bask in Corbin's light, not that she didn't get all the love a woman could want from her husband, this was just ... different.

Riley had been a little shocked when Corbin asked her to accompany him on his visit to Edwina's. Part of her delighted in the thought of tweaking the woman a little by getting in the way of her designs on Corbin, another part of her just wanted a peek at the woman's cavernous mansion, and it was another excuse to see Corbin. She did truly enjoy his company.

"I have a paper I have to finish, I am on my way to the public library now. I can't seem to find a quiet corner in the house. James is already planning his next show. But I think I might be done by Wednesday, but James might enjoy the trip if you'd rather...."

Riley thought she caught a hint of a smirk on the manager's face, but he tucked it away rather quickly. Corbin showered her again with one of his southern sunshine smiles.

Riley may have felt a bit awkward and Corbin after glancing up from the drafting table said, "I think you have everything you need to get going then Dan, why don't you do what you do best, turn my concepts into reality, while I give Riley here a tour of the shop."

Dan nodded and said, "if I need any more information I can find you."

Then turning to Riley Corbin offered his arm and said, "let's go for a walk." As they left the room and went into the hallway, which even though the building was only ten years old had been made up to look like a mission style office, with a lot of quarter sawn oak trim.

As they walked slowly down the hall, Corbin explained, "these rooms are where the concepts get made into tangible reality, they are the place where the estimates, drawings, and phone work get done. We do a lot of commercial stuff, and for that we have this," at the end of the hall and just off the lobby that Riley had seen earlier, were a set of double doors that opened into a lounge of sorts with overstuffed leather chairs, and a sort of country club theme."Looks real comfy don't it? When we do new homes or as I said commercial stuff we do it here, for the odd renovation we do for houses we go onsite."

Riley nodded and for some reason sat on one of the chairs, and leaned back into the soft comfort, smelling the leather. "You look right at home there Riley I do declare, you are destined for this world."

After that he took her the other way down the hall past where they had started from, the place though actually a beehive of activity was very hushed and subdued, Corbin commented, "hell you could do your papers here and no one would disturb you, it is highly conducive to working this place." Riley nodded.

When they came to the end Corbin indicated an office on the left and said, "that is Dan's the corner office, I may be the owner but he runs this place so he gets the prestigious place, my office, when I am here, which is not that often, is this one," and he opened up the door in the very end of the hall.

When they went inside Riley was surprised to see that in fact the office was not luxurious, but was furnished with an old factory made oak desk, with a wainscotting that ran a third of the way up the wall and the pictures were reproduction Currier & Ives prints. There was an old office chair behind the desk, on casters, and two matching oak chairs in front of it. There was an old leather sofa against one wall and a sort of coffee table in front of it. Riley smiled as she looked at this lack of luxury, though it did seem comfortable, and she confessed to Corbin about thinking he would be lounging behind a big desk with a scotch whiskey and a cigar.

Corbin laughed at that saying, "hell I don't smoke ceegars, and I don't have a lot of time for lounging, but this office is a bit of an indulgence of mine." Riley asked why and he went on, "When my daddy passed of the black lung, ten years back, I went home for the funeral, and I found they had closed the coal mine. So I went to the owners and bought the interior furninshings from the mine manager's office including that wainscotting on the walls. It sort of grounds me, so I don't forget where I am from."

Riley sat on the sofa and Corbin asked her if she had any lunch yet, when she said no, he went to the phone, and called the receptionist and told her to order two lunch specials from the restaurant downstairs. Today the special was Thai Coconut soup, with a grilled chicken salad with sesame dressing. He also ordered to Riley's surprise, two mineral waters, the same brand that she had ordered at the restaurent a few nights ago. Obviously he had paid attention to what she liked.

Then instead of sitting on the sofa beside her, Corbin pulled a chair over from the desk and sat facing her and asked her about the paper she was working on. It was plain that he wanted her to be comfortable and he did nothing that could be interpreted as agressive. They chatted for a while until the lunch arrived, even though it was three in the afternoon they were both hungry.